


she said I love the way you think, but I hate the way you act

by cinderlily



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 13:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8668759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderlily/pseuds/cinderlily
Summary: Thanksgiving was Ginny's favorite holiday until it stopped meaning family, but for the Sanders she'd do anything. Even handle Mike showing up to enjoy the holiday with them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I'm totally still handling the last episode, so basically a lot of my fic is unpacking feelings. Sorry! Supa fast beta by the AMAZING LuciFern. <3 
> 
> Meant to post ON Thanksgiving but eh. Life happens. <3 Hope your weekend is/was amazing. <3

When she was little Ginny lived for Thanksgiving. A day off from most of the daily grind, just the normal morning throwing routine… followed by the Macy’s Day Parade and family filling every crevice of whomever’s house it fell at that year. The smell of food, the sound of family and the feeling of warmth and happiness. 

Most of the kids would meet up in the back of the house and throw together a game of football, with very few actual rules, a lot of tackling and to her memory never a decided winner or loser. 

When her dad died… well. Everything went with it. She’d already gotten to the point in her life that she’d lost the right to play football in the backyard, as any injuries could be the end of her career and she’d just more or less signed with the Padres. Her mom wouldn’t take her to her dad’s family and her mom’s family was scattered to the winds. 

So just like that Thanksgiving became her least favorite holiday of the year. 

It didn’t change as time went by. The few years she played fall ball, the billet families would sometimes throw together something for the players but she was rarely liked by the players and sometimes not even by the billet families. 

She and her brother would buy turkey breasts and cranberry sauce when they were together and in Texas they’d make them into Tacos. It was small, simple, just a touch lonely, but whatever. It was hers.

Her first year as a Padre she’d figured she’d just stay in San Diego. She’d given her mom a half assed excuse about the training staff and keeping her at her peak. Learning a new release point. It was fine, as her mom was apparently going on a cruise and was just trying to make herself feel better about the fact that she was leaving her kids behind. 

Her brother didn’t even call her. Not surprising. 

All the way till Thursday morning she’d figured she’d be curled up watching the Parade on her brand new, ridiculous, TV. But she woke to a text message from Evelyn that read, simply, “ _My husband is an ass. Get dressed and come over._ ”

She would ask why Blip was an ass but even with unlimited texting she was pretty sure it would blow her phone up. She took a shower and threw on one of her more comfortable maxi dresses, the weather outside was cold but not nearly cold enough to require even a few layers.

By the time she got to the Sanders’ house she found there were about a half a dozen cars outside of it. She tilted her head. She always figured Blip would go to one of their homes for the holidays. She reached the door and barely knocked before the door swung open and Evelyn was there with a huge smile on her face. 

“Oh good, you’re here,” she smiled. “Come with me to the kitchen.” 

Ginny barely had a time to throw a hand up to say hi to everyone in the room, of which she recognized two teammates and Blip. She was half sure the women sitting was Blips mom and maybe that was why Evelyn’s hand was being held _so freaking tight_. 

They got to the kitchen and she was amazed to see that the whole room was full with food. Both ovens, the stove tops full. She looked at Evelyn and shook her head. 

“You think I know how to make food?” 

Evelyn released her hand and rolled her eyes, “Yeah. I’ve been to your place. You still have the stickers all over your appliances.” 

“Hey, I just moved in…” 

“A month and a half ago,” Evelyn said. “No. But I need you to talk me off a ledge. Blips parents weren’t supposed to be here. They are supposed to be visiting Blips brother in Tahoe. This is NOT OUR YEAR.” 

Ginny put her hands up to shush her. “Breathe, Evs, breathe.” 

Evelyn went over to a bottle of wine and poured two glasses. She handed one to Ginny and then swallowed about half of her own. “She’s already asked why I didn’t let Blip deep fry the turkey. Which, he did, like a half decade ago and we all got food poisoning. Why would I EVER let him do that again?”

“So, you want me to beat her?” Ginny offered and Evelyn’s frown broke into a smile, followed by her starting to laugh. “What?” 

“Just the image of you doing it…”

Ginny showed off her guns. “Look, lady, I can take on Blips mom if I need to.” 

“You best not be talking about my mom in here,” Blip said, from the doorway.

“You best be giving me some room, you are on the naughty list,” Evelyn said and when he raised his eyebrows she shook her head. “NOT the fun one. Who doesn’t tell their wife her in-laws are coming to Thanksgiving.” 

Blip put his hands up. “I told you, it was last minute. Jamie got the flu and Megan didn’t want…” 

“To deal with your parents,” Evelyn muttered.

“Speaking of last minute,” Blip said and gave a worried smile. “Mike’s coming? Yay?”

Both of them looked over at him with the joint glares of doom. Ginny took a long sip of her wine and thought longingly of the booze closet she knew was just feet away from her. 

“So you don’t invite my Ginny but you invite Mike ‘too good for the team’ Lawson?” 

Blip rolled his eyes. “I FORGOT to invite Ginny, sorry about that Gin. But Mike is staying in San Diego, can we forgive that?” 

“I don’t know… Ginny? Can we forgive that?” Evelyn looked over at her and sipped her wine. 

Ginny put a finger to her chin and gave an exaggerated hum. “Hmm, let’s see. Almost left our team and never gave a great answer as to why, only reason he DIDN’T leave was because Chicago wouldn’t take him… Let’s think about this. Nope. I’m all good with the not forgiving him.” 

“Just play nice,” Blip put his hands together. “Please?” 

Ginny looked at him and frowned. “Fuck it, I’m going to need the actual booze.” 

She walked over to the liquor cabinet and went to the very back where she knew Blip kept the better Scotch. She slipped it out and poured herself a few fingers before putting it back. Blip looked a little annoyed but a lot impressed. 

“You two scare me,” Blip said. 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Evelyn said, the doorbell ringing and Blip turning to go answer it. 

Evelyn let out a rather impressive string of expletives. “This day keeps getting better. Next he’ll invite his last girlfriend before me.”

“Okay, now you’re just being petty. It’s been like over a decade,” Ginny said but caught sight of Evelyn’s face and shook her head. “Not petty at all.” 

“Her name was Lindsie, with an _i e_.” 

“The devil, obviously.” 

“Exactly,” she said, and she made a face. “Plus she insisted on trying to be my friend once Blip and I started dating. What is that?” 

They had had this talk more than a dozen times in their five year relationship, usually when Blip and her had had a fight. Sometimes when they played in Michigan, where they’d met. It was oddly a comforting conversation in a way. Comforting to keep the whole ‘Mike is coming’ thing at bay. She sat down at bar stool, put her hand on the palm of her hand, and let her start her rant. Except this time Evelyn stopped mid sentence about Lindsie’s proclivity towards the Grateful Dead. 

“You okay?” 

Ginny looked at the pie in the center of the table. She stared at it for long enough that the anxiety that had suddenly swelled in her chest loosened just slightly. “Yeah. I think?” 

“You are going to have to work on making that convincing.” 

“Look, do I have any choice here? He’s coming, I can’t change that. Don’t you have something you should be doing?” 

Evelyn picked up a piece of paper that had times on it, clearly written next to different foods. “I don’t have to do anything for ten minutes. Stop evading. Step up. _Mike_. Talk about him.” 

“What is the big deal? I mean… he was going to leave and then he didn’t and then the season ended and … haven’t talked to him since. It sucks but whatever. He made his decisions.” 

“Like almost kissing you and chickening out like he was on his first date?” 

Ginny took a long swallow of the Scotch, breaking all the rules of how to ‘truly enjoy’ it. “Evelyn. If he wanted to kiss me, he would have. He has literally had _months_ to make up for that. So he didn’t. Actions, you know?” 

The doorbell rang again. Evelyn rolled her eyes. “I’ll go get it. You stay here. If that pot starts to make noises, take a spoon and mix it up.” 

“Aye aye,” Ginny put two fingers to her forehead. Evelyn made a face. 

A minute later she heard Evelyn’s voice from the hallway, a way too loud and friendly greeting for… Well. Mike naturally. Because that was her day. She watched the pot that she was supposed to be monitoring and it didn’t move. Staying in the kitchen for the rest of the day was a totally viable option, right?

Evelyn walked back into the room with her eyes wide. 

“What?” 

A few steps behind her was Mike, who was looking at her with his concerned captain frown. She froze and tried her best to relax her body in small shifts, not noticeable for him to say anything. 

“Lawson,” she said. 

“Ginny,” he said and she flinched. “Can we talk?” 

“Don’t really know what we would have to talk ab—“

Before she could continue the conversation Marcus came running in. “GINNY! When did you get here? We’re playing touch football. Want to play? Grandpa is boring and dad barely counts. I think we can swing Burger and then we’d have even teams… almost.” 

She let him take her hand and didn’t look behind her as she was yanked through the building and out into the yard. She slipped off her shoes as soon as she got out. Burger chirped that maybe she shouldn’t have worn a dress and thus the game was _on_ in her books. 

The dress did stand as a barrier so she tied it up slightly, not enough to be indelicate but she had been a girl in a boys world for her whole damn life. She was on Gabe and Marcus’s team leaving Blip and Burger on the other team. It wasn’t even a competition really and that was her favorite part. 

Marcus was in seventh heaven, the far more competitive of the two. It took all the power in her body to resist the urge to rub it in Blip and Burger’s faces because they were trying to teach the boys to be ‘better winners’. So instead at the end of the game, when they had _crushed them_ she shook her competitors hands and smiled. 

“That was a good game, boys,” she smiled, her most fake sincere smile. Burger made a face but then looked at the boys and nodded. 

“It sure was fun. Thanks for a good game,” he shook Gabe’s hand and Gabe held back a laugh. 

Ginny attack hugged Blip, sending him flying and both of his kids followed suit. They fell to the ground and he let out a huge oof. She dug her elbow into his head. “Good game, Blip my boy.”

“Ow, you brat,” Blip pushed her off. She giggled and rolled over onto her back, which was a bad bad choice as the boys thought this the perfect time to attack her. She had a moment of pure happiness before she heard a voice call out, “Time to wash up and come in. Boys the tables need setting.” 

The boys whined under their breath and were it not for her dignity she would have joined in. She got up and walked into the house. The front room was more filled than the last time she’d been there. Had Blip invited half the free world? She looked slowly towards the couch, just in time to see Mike looking directly at her. 

It was definitely not what she wanted, despite the treacherousness of her stomach jumping in her stomach. She looked instead at the screen. It was the middle of a football game. She slipped onto the love seat right next to one of the other players, no space to let Mike slip between them. 

If he wanted to stare her down, she would let him. She eased back and looked at the screen. The score was Lions 21 Vikings 0. Neither of the teams meant anything to her. She was okay with other sports, but most San Diego centric, with the specific exception of the LA Monarchs. 

“Are the Vikings aware there’s a game going on?” she asked the room in general. Burger hissed at her. She vaguely was aware he was from Minnesota but whatever. “Are you seeing the score?” 

“Lulling them into false sense of security,” he said.

She raised her eyebrows. “Lulling is a good word. Like a lullaby.” 

She faked a series of snores.

From the single chair she got a chuckle, she looked to find an older gentleman who looked a lot like Blip. “Oh, I like this one, Ezekial.” 

“He likes me, huh Ezekial?” Ginny smiled. She’d known his real name for quite a while but she always loved the excuse to use it.

“Oh shut up,” Blip stuck his tongue out at her and then sighed. “Sorry momma.” 

Ginny heard the familiar soft laughter of Mike from across the room and her eyes flicked to him. He was holding his left knee while he laughed. She wondered if it was hurting more than usual. She bit her lower lip and then remembered that there was no reason for her to care. 

“If I tell someone to ‘shut up’ I get in trouble,” Gabe pointed out. 

“Setting a bad example,” Blip’s moms frowned at him. 

Blip got down on one knee. “Look dudes, I shouldn’t have told Aunt Gin to shut up, but I got angry. I’m sorry, Ginny.”

Ginny smiled at him and shrugged. “All’s forgiven, Ezekiel.” 

From behind Marcus’ head Blip stuck his tongue out. 

“I’m going to go check in on Evelyn,” Ginny smiled, throwing her legs to the ground. “Would anybody like something to drink?” 

Blip’s dad smiled at her. “A nip of something to warm me up would be nice.” 

“No it won’t,” Blip’s mom said. “You know you limit your alcohol intake.” 

And then sounded like a battle that had been going on for a while she she took the chance to go around the corner and into the kitchen before it got heated. The kitchen had somehow gone from organized to a mess in the thirty minutes it had suddenly come apart. 

“I’ve done this before,” Evelyn looked like she might honestly might cry. “I have a list.” 

Ginny looked at the room, and then at her friend and lost all words. She was… well. Not the best when it came to a lot of type of the normal girl comforting.

“Well, a list is a good place to start.” 

They both turned to the doorway and found Mike in the doorway with a small smile and rubbing his hands together. 

“Let me see the list?” 

She handed it to him, though about half of had different oils and flour on it. Mike looked at the list like he did at a list of pitchers, going through each part of it and making a plan. After a minute he looked up and at Evelyn. 

“Well, we’ve got about forty five minutes for the turkey,” he said. “The mashed potatoes have been cut but not mashed. The veggies are in the oven, the pies are in a separate oven, nicely done Mrs. Sanders… Hold up.” 

“BLIP,” he called out. A minute later Blip walked in looking confused. 

“Yes?” 

Mike, in full on Captain mode, walked over to a cutting board and handing Blip a knife. “Cut these potatoes into tiny bits, put them in THIS bowl and then smash the hell out of them.” 

“Ginny,” he turned. “You ever make green bean casserole.” 

She paused. It had been about fifteen years but if eight year old her could do this (with a little help from her Grandma). “Yeah?” 

He dish. “Go ahead.” 

Evelyn was looking at him like he might actually be made of pure goodness, sunshine and puppies. Ginny blinked as she set the bowl down in an open enough space. She looked at the back of the container and made a hmmm noise. She was about to open the first can of mushroom soup when, from behind her she heard. 

“DOUBLE IT, BAKER!” 

In any other circumstance she would probably make a snide comment but he _was_ keeping Evelyn sane so she was giving him a few extra inches for the next little while. She opened all the cans and cases, smiled when she heard someone put on some music. 

The four of them went into a weird flow. It wasn’t that the Sander’s kitchen was small by any stretch of the imagination but they should be bumping into each other. They didn’t. Rather they moved from task to task around each other. 

She got the double portioned food into the oven and was given the task of unfolding the rolls onto two large sheets. A part of her was pretty offended she was being given the tasks that were almost entirely un-fuck up able. But… she was honest with herself. 

Time moved faster and when the timer went off on the oven, indicating the turkey was done (and Mike double checked), it was like the last forty five minutes was three blinks of an eye. Except the whole kitchen seemed to be back to organized, food was lined up and everything looked… Amazing. 

Blip put a hand on Mike’s shoulder and squeezed. “ _And his heart grew three sizes that day._ ” 

“Wrong holiday,” both Ginny AND Mike said simultaneously. They caught each other’s eyes and when Mike smiled Ginny couldn’t resist smiling back. Damn it. 

Evelyn had gone out to the other room, to make sure the kids had set the table and to tell everyone dinner was on. Blip’s parents walked, his dad smiling at the spread while his mother looked at it skeptically. 

“I owe you a drink,” Ginny said. 

“It’s been a long time since a girl your age has said that,” his dad winked at her. 

His mom slapped her husband. “Douglas.” 

Ginny turned around, covering up the fact that she was rolling her eyes and she went to the cabinet. She got drink orders from the the table. Most people were beer or wine, which was fine with her. Much easier. She went out to the table carrying an armful of beer. Each seat was labeled. 

Which would be fine, except two hastily written labels were seated in the corner of the table. Her and Mike. She needed to find Evelyn and ask what the hell she was thinking, but she didn’t have time. She went around the room and placed the beers at the appropriate chairs. 

Went back to the kitchen to fill the appropriate wine glasses, and finally she put sodas for the kids, herself and for Blip’s dad. For her and Blip’s dad she had put a _little_ the whiskey because… if not on Thanksgiving, right? By the time the food was all set up she was the last one to get to the food, though thankfully there was plenty left. 

Her first instinct was to fill the plate with protein first, she could hear her dad’s voice in her head telling her which were the better carbs and how much turkey she was supposed to have if she planned to work out. (Which, of course she was going to work out, right?)

“Come on Rook, we get like three days a year,” she heard behind her. She whipped around and made a face. She still didn’t know exactly how she felt about Mike, even with his miraculous amazingness when it came dinner. 

“Biology, Old Man,” she grumbled. 

“Is against _me_ ,” he said, putting a plate out and filling it with huge scoops of everything. “You turn 30 and your body decides that you have no need nor want for a metabolism. It all changes. Totally sucks.”

She looked at the food again and thought for a second whether or not she was letting Mike win or her dad win with either choice she frowned and thought a quite deliberate ‘Fuck it’ and dug into the sweet potatoes, emphasis on the marshmallows. She followed it up with a plate that she was sure would make her nutritionist cry. 

“That’s my girl,” Mike smiled, then paused and coughed. “I mean. That a girl…” 

Ginny let him revel in the awkwardness, half because she was mean and half because she had no idea what exactly she was supposed to say to that. She inhaled deeply and jerked her head towards the other room. 

“When you dig yourself out of that hole I’ll be at the table.” 

“Shut up,” was all she got back from Mike. 

Marcus, who was just in ear shot of the yell turned to Gabe and said, “Oooo. Uncle Mike’s in troubbbbble.” 

“Yeah he is,” she said, not really meant for them to hear. “Multiple levels.” 

*

The dinner was amazing, both the food and the company. She was seated next to a late call up she had yet to really get to know. He was young and sweet, and apparently from New York City. He was thinking about moving to Arizona to get in on the fall ball and the spring training. She felt a little weird, because he had all these long term plans and her longest term plan was, “Keep up your workout schedule.” 

A few times she felt Mike’s eyes on her and she tried to ignore him, but her dining partner started to talk to Blip’s dad and she was left with nothing to do so she turned as casually as she could. 

“So, do you just watch a shit ton of Iron Chef or …?” 

Mike half smiled, taking a bite that looked like a mess of everything on the plate. “Or.” 

“Or _what_?” 

He focused on his plate and put a bite together. It was methodical, as she watched, little bits of everything, even the cranberries (gross). “My mom had a habit of trying to convince guys that she was a whiz in the kitchen. She never was, she barely could boil water without burning it. So one year she was inviting this guy over. I went to the library and rented some cookbooks. It took three days and all of our food stamps but I figured out how to make a passable Thanksgiving dinner.” 

Ginny felt frozen in place. She’d learned bits and pieces of his childhood through a few different people. Amelia, who’d looked into it because… well she always looked into everything. Oscar who had let something slip once when she was really mad, basically saying that running away was in his blood. But she hadn’t heard if _from_ Mike and never so flippantly. 

“So you’re kind of stuck with this sad sack,” Mike said. “At least another season or so. You going to talk to me any time soon?”

“I’m talking to you right now, Lawson,” she said, going back to looking at her plate and mushing around her sweet potatoes. 

He laughed. “Yup, that’s exactly what you’re doing. Talking, saying nothing but talking. Are we going actually _talk_? Cause I’m … I miss you, Baker,” he said and she looked around to find that everyone was still in their own conversations. 

“You don’t get that right,” she hissed. 

“Why not?” he asked and his voice raised enough that Blip’s head turned from the head of the table. 

She faked a smile and leaned to push her chair back. “Second beer. Why not?” 

She put her hand on his hand and he pushed his chair back to stand up. He didn’t say anything and by the look on Blip’s face he wasn’t going with the facade. Freaking damn it, Lawson. 

They walked into the kitchen, but found that Blip’s mother was getting a second plate. Ginny grabbed two beers, because honestly they probably needed it and walked through the sitting room and out onto the back porch. They dropped hands and she faced him. Mike had a look on his face that was indescribable and if it was the same one he’d made at Blip then she knew why she’d been getting death glares Mike’s way from Blip. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” she started and handed him one of the two beers she had in one hand. “What the hell do you think is your problem, Lawson?” 

“What’s my problem?” Mike said. “You haven’t talked to me, even when we were _on the same team_ for months. You treated me like I didn’t exist.” 

She put her beer down on the first surface she could find, unopened. She knew she had to balance her thoughts or she was going to pull a frustrated rant that made no sense, or worse she’d just cry. It’d been long few months. 

“You left,” she said. “Or… you decided you were going to. And so we talked and we went out and I had to deal with losing you. And you know what? It sucked. Hard. Even just for the three nights. I cried, I’ll be honest. I cried a lot. And so then, you take me and it’s just us and I think _fuck it_ , go all in. 

“I decide I was going to tell you to _stay_. To tell you to not go. That Chicago was the wrong fit for you but in reality it was the wrong fit because I wasn’t there. But you asked me and you looked like it meant something to you. Like you might actually listen to me. So I said you should go. Cause it was obvious what you wanted.” 

Mike broke in. “How do you know what I wanted?” 

“You waived your no trade clause, Lawson. The whole point of that ability is you only do it _when you want to leave_. You don’t just do it on whim. But then I get to my car and you get so close to me and… then we kiss. We _kiss_. Something I’d wanted for a freaking while.” 

“I’d wanted it, too!” 

“Then why is it twenty-four hours later when you end up NOT signing for the Cubs you _never mention it again_ ,” she said, and she got right up into his face. Because, well. Months of wanting to ask that damn question was boiling over apparently. 

He backed up a little, put his beer down next to hers and rubbed at his hair. 

“You, Ginny Baker, are fucking hard to get a handle on,” he said and when she crossed her arms he pointed at her. “No, don’t do that. Don’t… get that  ‘I’m angry and I’m going to pretend to listen so I can go back to yelling at you' _thing_ that you like to do.” 

“I don’t do that,” she said but slowly uncurled her hands and put them at her side. 

He bit his lip and started a pace. “Look, Ginny. I… decided to move because… Omar. Omar told me he had a crush on you, okay?” 

“Omar said _what_?” she spluttered, she was more than used to the occasional guys thinking they had a crush on her but _Omar _?. “Is he crazy? He doesn’t even _know_ me.” __

__Mike threw his hands up. “Exactly! So I told him so. I said he didn’t know you. That he didn’t know your little idiosyncrasies that would drive a man insane. _I did_. I mean, I’d spent weeks, _months_ with you day in day out learning your crazies…” _ _

__“Okay, I don’t see how this gets you to Chicago and I REALLY don’t see this making me want to talk to you, like _ever again_.” _ _

__“But I still liked you, Baker,” Mike said. “Like, I really cared about you. The days you wouldn’t talk to me after the Amelia thing were the worst days I had in years. I liked how you would fall asleep on the phone sometimes in the middle of a sentence and then you’d have to charge your phone in the locker room all annoyed. I liked your inability to hold pitch on a Katy Perry song. Your weird eating habits. I _liked_ them.” _ _

__Ginny’s face felt pinched. She knew what the words meant. What he was saying, it was the why he was saying them that escaped her. He had made it clear after the kiss that he was … uninterested? He barely looked at her when he announced he was staying. He avoided her until it became a game of who could avoid the other better until she was so mad she hated meetings on the mound cause she was just too tired to hold up how much she missed him._ _

__“You didn’t say anything,” she said, defeated. “You walk into the clubhouse after I hadn’t slept the night before because you were leaving and I was crying and … then you just saunter in like it was no big deal. ‘Okay kids, I’m staying. Now let’s play ball.’ And then you didn’t talk to me. What was I supposed to think?”_ _

__“You don’t date teammates,” he told her, a little more angry than he had any right to in her opinion._ _

__“I don’t date baseball players,” she corrected but then shrugged. “Rules are made to be broken. We _kissed_ , Mike, you think I did that with freaking Tommy? Murphy? Johnson? Burger? No. It was just you. And it was a pretty good kiss.” _ _

__Mike put a hand on one of his hips and put her finger in his face. “It was a damn good kiss, Baker.”_ _

__“Not good enough for a repeat?” she asked. “Because I was expecting… something or _anything_ and it’s been …” _ _

__She was stopped, mid-sentence, with Mike slipping his hands behind her body and putting her right near his face, just like last time, his beard tickling her lip. “Ginny.”_ _

__“Months, Mike,” she said, softly._ _

__“I’m sorry,” he said quietly and pressed a slow kiss to her lips. She pushed back at him with a little bit of the nervous energy that had been building through the night. He pushed back and she would have to change her stance on the quality of the kiss when she could actually say something again._ _

__He pulled back a little and bit slightly at her lower lip._ _

__“Okay, maybe you have a little bit of game, Old Man,” she smiled against his lips, pushing in for another peck._ _

__“FOUND THEM,” came a screeching seven-year-old voice. “EEEEWWW. MOOOOOOOM. THEY WERE KISSING.”_ _

__The look of embarrassment mixed with legitimate fear that came across Mike’s face was enough to override her own embarrassment. She laughed, leaning her forehead against his shoulder._ _

__She took a moment to compose herself before she turned her head to find Marcus standing at the door with Evelyn looking quite satisfied beside her son._ _

__“Thanks, Marcus,” Ginny said. “You totally win at 'hide and go seek'.”_ _

__“A second beer?” Evelyn said._ _

__Mike, in all his glory, leaned over and pointed at the side table that held their two (unopened) beers._ _

__She gave an unimpressed noise. “We’re going to have some pie, but you guys seem to be enjoying your own dessert.”_ _

__“Evelyn,” Ginny said, feeling like she might actually have to give Marcus a noogie later for this._ _

__Mike nudged her, a big smile on his face. “Pie?”_ _

__“Really, Lawson?” she blinked at him. “Me or pie and you’re going with _pie_?”_ _

__“There was no either or in this equation,” he pointed out. He lowered his voice. “Plus, if we eat the pie, we can leave sooner.”_ _

__From the glass door, Evelyn proclaimed. “Heard that.”_ _

__“Freaking mom ears,” he shook his head. “They scare me.”_ _

__Ginny slipped a hand into his and leaned over to just outside his ear. “That’s why you whisper when you plan on doing dirty things involving whipped cream.”_ _

__Mike’s eyes went wide and he looked at Evelyn who had her eyes narrowed but wasn’t saying anything like she had actually heard anything that had come out of Ginny’s mouth._ _

__“We are eating the freaking pie,” Mike declared and walked forward towards the door. Ginny grabbed the beers as they passed and hid her face, which was pretty flushed, as they walked by Evelyn._ _

__Evelyn poked her back. “We’re talking about this.”_ _

__“When have we ever NOT talked about something?” Ginny threw over her shoulder._ _

__She saw in the corner Marcus and Gabe talking amongst themselves and they looked over at her and Mike and gave her and an oblivious Mike gagging faces. She made kissy faces at them. Soon enough it would be her teasing the hell out of them._ _

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Ben Harper's "Steal My Kisses" for reasons.
> 
> Also I apologize if your name is Lindsie, I literally had to hunt out a name to hate on, as the one I was thinking of is my freshman year roommate who had the most GD AWFUL NAME OMG.


End file.
